


cold snap

by sylvermyth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fireman AU - Freeform, Fireman!Shiro, M/M, Podfic Available, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth
Summary: “You know, usually I know a person’s name before I go into their house. I’m Shiro, by the way.” Shiro stood a respectful distance from him as Keith unlocked his door, his voice mild and a little teasing, and Keith would’ve flushed in embarrassment if his cheeks hadn’t already been pink from the cold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt from caseyvalhalla: Sheith, I accidentally covered you in snow while shoveling/plowing snow oh my god I insist you come inside so I can help you dry off

Keith stared blearily down into the coffee canister, brain trying to make sense of the contents. Or, more specifically, lack thereof, and maybe his brain had taken longer than necessary to process this information, but once it had, it was quick enough to react with a grumbled curse as he slammed the container back on the counter.

He needed coffee. It was vital. He couldn’t function without it (okay, maybe he could, but. He’d rather not.), and yet somehow he’d managed to forget to restock.

He considered buying a cup somewhere on the way to work, but quickly dismissed the idea—chances were that he might forget _again_ , and in any case, the whole point of coffee was to make him at least somewhat more coherent by the time he got to work—it was a _process_. A routine. Coffee, quick workout, shower, etc.

So with that in mind, he ambled back to his room for a pair of socks, tugged those and his boots on, and snatched up his keys. He was awake enough to drive to the market. Probably. It wasn’t that far; far enough that he didn’t want to walk, especially not with the cold snap that was blowing through town, and that thought made him wrap a scarf around his neck before he zipped his jacket.

It wasn’t until he stepped outside, white filling his vision, that he remembered that the cold snap had come with a chance of snow. More than a chance.

Keith really was useless this early.

“For the coffee,” he reminded himself as he retrieved the brush for the car. At least it would be done for when he went to work, he reasoned, clearing the windows of snow. The driveway was another matter—the snow was already several inches deep, with more coming down, so there was a chance all of his work would be undone before long, anyway.

It was fine. It was fine, he was going to get coffee soon and it would all be that much more bearable.

Even so, Keith found himself shoveling with perhaps a bit more intensity than was required for the job. Because really. He could handle the cold and he didn’t mind the snow but for fuck’s sake, he _needed_ coffee. Why were the Fates so cruel?

Okay, that was rather dramatic. Still.

He was nearly done, that much closer to a cup of daily will to live, when he heard it: the telltale sound of the plow. A glance down the street, and there it was, ominous, pushing snow off the road and to the curb in banks of dirty gray, slush and snow, and Keith just. Stopped and glared at it as it drew inevitably closer to his driveway, the muffled grate of tires and metal on snow a sound that Keith hated more than anything in that moment.

“Of course. Of fucking course.” He watched with an angry helplessness as the plow crossed the end of his driveway, blocking it with a long mound of snow as high as his knees.

He considered it an act of maturity that he didn’t chuck a rock at the retreating plow truck, but really, it was more because his hands were cold enough without deliberately holding snow in them (fingerless gloves only did so much against the cold).

At least he wouldn’t need to work out this morning. Not with all of this. The snow from the plow was heavy and wet, a mixture of snow and slush and salt, and despite the cold Keith could feel sweat damp against his back. He paused to rub a hand over his nose, sniffling, and then got back to work with renewed vigor, because he was _really_ almost done, with no plow coming down the street. Still. Keith glanced down the road again, just in case.

So he was startled by the yelp behind him, immediately following the shovel-full of snow he’d tossed back.

Keith had definitely been…enthusiastic in his shoveling. He blamed the lack of coffee and the promise of filling that lack, coupled with the really just awful morning he’d had so far.

In any case, when Keith whirled around to find the source of the yelp, he found himself flinching back from his own handiwork, the wet mixture of slushy snow dripping off of—of—

Holy shit the man was _gorgeous_. Tall and built—the second part was a guess, considering the guy’s hoodie was over-sized and shapeless, but with a face like _that_ , even with the scar across his nose (or maybe because of it), he had to be. That _jaw_ , and those _eyes_ , and—he was practically drenched with the wet snow Keith had tossed behind him without a thought, and Keith had to concentrate to keep from choking on his tongue.

The man was drenched outside in freezing temperatures and it was entirely Keith’s fault, and that was a sobering thought. It was enough to shake him out of his daze of simply gaping at the unfortunate man.

It came out in a rush, because Keith was terrible at this kind of thing. “Shit, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you are you okay? Fuck, come inside, you can use my dryer—I’m so sorry.”

The drawn look on the man’s face smoothed into a small smile. “It’s fine, really, accidents happen.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna freeze,” Keith gestured at the damp mess of the man’s sweatshirt, and he had to take his hand off the shovel to do it—he was still holding the shovel!? He dropped it as if it had burned him. “Look, just—” Keith crossed his arms. It was too fucking early for this, he couldn’t think properly. He just knew that he couldn’t let the guy freeze. It was a bonus that it would give him a chance to look at him a little longer, maybe even get his phone number. His frustration needled at him, gave an edge to his words. “I feel like a dick, alright? At least come in and let me see if I can find something to fit you.” He gave _tall-dark-and-built_ an assessing gaze. He doubted he had anything that would fit him, but. But.

The man was returning his look with a dubious one of his own, but he chuckled. “Well, if you insist. Thanks.”

Keith uncrossed his arms. “Right.” He paused, uncertain if he should say more, but in the end he simply waved for the man to follow him.

“You know, usually I know a person’s name before I go into their house. I’m Shiro, by the way.” Shiro stood a respectful distance from him as Keith unlocked his door, his voice mild and a little teasing, and Keith would’ve flushed in embarrassment if his cheeks hadn’t already been pink from the cold.

“It’s Keith.” Probably he should be saying more, Keith thought, but he’d never been a fan of small talk. He stepped in, holding the door open for Shiro. “Come in. I’m gonna grab a towel.”

He hadn’t really thought this through, Keith realized. He had a stranger in his home, _still_ hadn’t gotten any coffee, and at this rate he was probably going to be late to work.

No. Fuck it, today he was going to call out. He hadn’t even gotten past his driveway and he was just done for the day.

At least Shiro was easy on the eyes. Keith wasn’t exactly unhappy to have him in his home. He saw Shiro glancing around curiously as Keith made his way back with the fluffiest towel he owned, and it made him consider his place from an outsider’s perspective. It was, admittedly, a little cluttered and messy, but to his credit there wasn’t trash or dirty clothes scattered everywhere.

Keith awkwardly thrust the towel towards Shiro. “Here. I’ll go look—” His words died in his throat as Shiro shucked his sweatshirt and the layer underneath it, confirming Keith’s suspicion that he was, indeed, _built_. He barely caught a glimpse of the faint scars littering Shiro’s skin before the towel was draped over his shoulders, covering most of it. Keith tried not to stare at the metal prosthetic attached to the remains of Shiro’s arm. He cleared his throat. “Uhm.”

Shiro clutched his shirts in his hands and shifted on his feet. “Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I just didn’t want to get your towel too dirty and,” he lifted his bundle of shirts a fraction, “I was getting pretty cold, after all.”

Keith swallowed, and forced himself to focus on Shiro’s face. It was a nice face, so it wasn’t terribly difficult. “It’s fine.” (It was _definitely_ fine.) He gestured towards the living room. “If you’re cold, you can use the blanket on the couch while I go see if I have something that might fit. I’d offer you coffee, but I’m out.” Keith felt his mouth turn down, the thought of coffee—of not having coffee—still making him feel sluggish and rough around the edges.

“Thanks.” Shiro’s voice was soft, and Keith pointedly did not watch him go sit on the couch and wrap himself up in Keith’s favorite blanket.

That would be ridiculous. It was never going to happen. He didn’t even know if Shiro would be interested. He rifled through his spare clothes with the same kind of energy that had driven him while he’d been shoveling, but it was fruitless, and he wasn’t sure if that made him happy or more annoyed.

He grabbed his largest t-shirt, just in case. “Sorry, I only found this,” he called as he turned back to the living room.

And Keith was definitely calling out of work today because this day was taking years off of his life. Because not only was Shiro wrapped up in Keith’s blanket like he belonged there. Oh no. That wasn’t enough.

He also had to go and pet Keith’s cat.

Red, who was as prickly and grumpy and unsociable as Keith himself, was pressing against Shiro’s legs as Shiro scratched him under the chin. _That just wasn’t fair._ Keith tried to focus on breathing evenly as he handed the shirt over to Shiro.

In the interim of Shiro holding the shirt up to his—still bare—chest, Red hopped onto the couch with him and curled up at his side. Keith narrowed his eyes at his cat. _Traitor_. “I don’t know. I can try it on but I don’t want to rip your shirt if it doesn’t fit.”

Keith shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “It’s just a shirt. Offer still stands if you want to use the dryer.” _Please say yes._

Shiro’s face scrunched up and he looked at his pile of damp clothes, then back up to Keith. “I mean…I wouldn’t want to impose on you like that.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it was an imposition.” It came out sharper than he intended, but then, everything did. Keith hesitated. Maybe Shiro was the one being imposed upon. He pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to the floor. “I—I can get you an Uber.”

Shiro didn’t respond for a long moment, long enough for Keith to glance back up and find dark eyes studying him. “That’s not necessary.” He tugged Keith’s blanket a little more securely over his shoulders. “Now that I’m inside and all warm, I have to admit I’m a bit reluctant to go back out in the cold. So I guess I’ll take you up on that dryer.”

“Right. Good.” Keith gathered up Shiro’s clothes and bustled to the dryer. He was still in his coat, he realized, turning the knob to start the cycle. He’d been so focused on Shiro and his lack of coffee and he was _still in his coat_ and his snow- and sweat-damp clothes, and his hair—when he ducked into the bathroom, it was a ridiculous mess.

Maybe he really was sick. (Or just tired. That was also a possibility.)

He left the damp clothes in his laundry pile for later and put on fresh sweats and a t-shirt before he rejoined Shiro, who was—still—absently petting Red as he looked around the room.

“Uhm.” Now Keith had Shiro here for the length of a dryer cycle, and with that bare chest, he wondered if it was even such a good idea, because he wasn’t entirely sure he could resist the impulse to map Shiro’s skin with his hands and mouth—and no, that was entirely inappropriate for someone he’d just met. “Do you like video games? Since it’ll be a while.”

Shiro smiled, broad and dazzling and beautiful and it made Keith’s breath catch, just a little, and he tried not to stutter as he listed off his game collection for Shiro to choose something to play. And Keith insisted it was fine if he chose a single-player game, because he didn’t mind watching.

Keith had to remind himself it wasn’t a date, just…whatever it was. Not really an obligation, because he didn’t feel obliged. An apology, maybe? Even so, he found it easy to relax at Shiro’s side as Shiro directed his character on the screen.

The harsh buzz of the dryer’s cycle ending startled Keith awake, and he hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. It was the lack of coffee, of course

And maybe a little bit the heat radiating from Shiro, who had paused the game and was looking at Keith with a soft expression.

Keith flushed and shot upright, his fingers tingling. “Sorry, I. I told you I was out of coffee, right? I didn’t mean—”

Shiro cut him off with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.” He smiled, tilting his head to indicate Red, curled up against his other side. “I guess it’s true, pets take after their owners.”

Keith ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess. He’s not usually so open to strangers, though.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows. “Really? I guess I should be flattered, then.” His eyes were dark, and Keith found it hard to look away. “He’s cute, though.”

Keith wasn’t entirely sure that Shiro was talking about Red.

He tried to cover his embarrassment by standing. “I’ll go grab your clothes.”

“Thanks.” It was a shame to cover all that up and send it away, Keith thought, stealing glances as Shiro pulled his shirts back on. Shiro’s hair was disheveled when his head poked through the neck of his sweatshirt. “You said you ran out of coffee?”

Keith crossed his arms. “Yeah.” He’d said as much earlier, and now he was wishing more than ever that he’d had a chance to go get more. Maybe he could keep Shiro here a little longer if he stayed for coffee.

But no. He was _out_.

“Then…if you’re free, if you want—I could buy you coffee. Sometime. It doesn’t have to be today.” Shiro’s eyebrows were furrowed, his lip between his teeth.

Keith blinked. No, it was too good. Shiro didn’t mean it like _that_. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Shiro’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I meant as a date.”

“Oh.” Shiro _did_ mean it like that.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad day, after all.

“Yes,” Keith said. “Today. I’m free today.”

It wasn’t until later, when Keith plugged in his phone to charge, that he realized he’d never actually gotten around to calling out of work. Kollivan was going to be pissed, but he’d survive. It was worth it.


	2. Snow Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has a snow day. Before he sits down to make the most out of it, he realizes he's missing something...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS PURE, UNADULTERATED FLUFF that I wrote because I TOO HAD A SNOW DAY and thus had some extra free time to write! ALSO I got inspired because on the way to work, I saw one of the firemen building a snowman outside of the fire station, so. This happened. Anyway, enjoy!

It was supposed to be spring.

And yet.

And yet, it was snowing.  Not even a full day into the official start of spring, and it was _snowing_.  Keith supposed he couldn’t be too upset, though, since the last snow day had resulted in a bare-chested Shiro in his apartment (and he still couldn’t get over how _unfairly attractive_ Shiro was) and a subsequent coffee date (which had resulted in more dates).  Just, everything up until that point had been catastrophically awful. 

But it hadn’t been the snow’s fault, and today hadn’t started with a series of unfortunate events.  He had a mostly-full cannister of coffee in his kitchen, and next to it a brand new bag of _Shiro_ _’s_ favorite flavored coffee, _just in case_.  So he’d been able to follow his routine—coffee, quick workout, shower—at his usual time, only to see he’d missed a call from Kolivan telling him they were closing shop because of the weather.  Which, despite the missed opportunity for a lie-in, was hardly bad news. 

It would be nice, to have an extra day off, to spend it wrapped in his blanket on the couch, with Red purring beside him, or if she was feeling affectionate, in his lap.  The day was full of opportunity—binge-watching TV, gaming, reading, eating—there was literally nothing to complain about. 

Except, there was. 

There was no one to snuggle up to.  Keith had, until recently, been comfortable with that fact.  He’d never really felt the need to seek out a relationship, and the thing with Shiro had been…an accident, really, in all sense of the word.  Keith had expected maybe a quick hook-up, some mutual satisfaction before they parted ways, but then, he hadn’t counted on _Shiro_.  Shiro, who was as silly and sweet as he was sexy.  Shiro, who slipped under Keith’s defenses without Keith realizing it, until sitting on the couch alone felt strange, when he was beginning to get used to having Shiro warm next to him.

Unfortunately, Shiro was at work.

Fortunately, Shiro’s work was the fire station only a few blocks down, and the thought spurred Keith up, an idea already forming in his mind as he made a beeline to his kitchen.

Behind the coffees was Keith’s stash of hot chocolate supplies— _real_ hot chocolate—and a half-used bag of marshmallows held closed with a chip clip.  Because maybe Shiro had access to a full range of hot beverages at the station, but he didn’t have _Keith_ _’s_ hot chocolate, which was a necessity for a day like this.  Snow, hot chocolate—they went hand-in hand.  Especially when it was supposed to be _spring_.

Keith bent over the stove with the hot chocolate, his face heating up as he imagined Shiro’s reaction when he brought it over, topped off with a thick layer of marshmallows just the way he liked it.  It was a little terrifying, how quickly Shiro had become a fixture in his life, how much Keith wanted to see his smile—but Shiro was just as earnest to do the same.  It was a consolation.  No, not a consolation, because that would imply he’d lost something.  It was more like…a revelation.  Something like that.

In any case, Keith wasn’t used to feeling quite so giddy over anything, not without a modicum of apprehension.  And Shiro was so good at easing Keith’s apprehension, without even trying, so…that was that.  Keith figured he at least deserved a surprise visit with hot chocolate for it.

Keith’s only travel mug probably should’ve been embarrassing.  But Kolivan had been straight-faced when he’d given Keith the Hello Kitty mug, and really, it _was_ cute, and reminded him a little bit of Red.  And it was practical, so he had no second thoughts about pouring Shiro’s hot chocolate into it before topping it off with marshmallows, before bundling up and heading out, holding the mug protectively against his chest.

Despite the late snow, it wasn’t terribly cold out when Keith closed his door behind him.  It was, however, snowy enough that he had to pick his way across un-shoveled walks, and by the time he was within sight of Shiro’s station, he was already covered in a fine layer of white, wet and cold where it found bare skin.  But the mug was mostly unaccosted, and that was the important part.

Keith realized, abruptly, that there was a flaw to his plan.  Although he _knew_ Shiro worked at the station, he hadn’t visited him there before, and didn’t know the protocol for said visits.  Or even if he would be allowed in, or where to find Shiro.  Just as he was starting to worry over that fact, he caught sight of movement in from of the building, a dark shape, low to the ground, moving against the backdrop of white.  And, a moment later, the familiar timbre of Shiro’s voice, and Keith paused, taking in the scene before him.

Shiro was bent low, packing snow into a sizable ball, presumably the base of a snowman.  Much like Keith’s first meeting with Shiro, he wasn’t dressed for the weather, the light ATFD jacket hardly more protection than a sweatshirt, and Keith couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at his lips at that alone. And—it was _so like Shiro_ to be building a snowman in front of the fire station, and Keith just stood and took the sight in, for a long moment.  Shiro was so wrapped up in his project, calling back to the tall woman hovering closer to the door who had an even larger snowball, that he didn’t notice Keith.

The woman did, though, and called out to him.  “Did you want to help?  We still need to form the head.”

“I said I’d do that,” Shiro protested, tone petulant, but then his gaze swung to Keith, and his face lit up with a wide grin.  “Keith!”  He straightened, and before Keith could do anything stupid, he thrust the travel mug in Shiro’s direction.

“I brought you something.”  Keith felt his face heating up, which was a feat considering the chill in the air, but at least he could pretend his flush was due to the weather.  He managed to meet Shiro halfway, and elaborated, “It’s hot chocolate.”

Shiro beamed and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, one arm wrapping around Keith in a hug as he accepted the mug.  “Thank you.”  His voice was warm, enough to chase off some of the cold seeping into Keith’s skin, and Keith muttered a _You_ _’re welcome_ into his scarf.  He started when Shiro pulled out of the hug, just enough to bring his hand up to tilt Keith’s chin for a proper kiss, stealing his breath.

It was brief, and when they parted, Keith complained, “Your hand is cold.”

Shiro chuckled, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.  “Well, if my hands were warm, Snowtron would melt!”

Keith sputtered.  “Snowtron?”

“Yes!”  Shiro gestured at the half-finished snowman, eyes bright.  “Snowtron the snowman.”

The woman who had been in the background stepped forward now, something like a smirk on her face.  “Yes, and Shiro _insists_ he be the one to make the head.”

“It’s an important duty,” Shiro said, mock-serious.  “But if it was Keith, I wouldn’t mind as much.  By the way, Keith, this is Allura.  Allura, Keith.”

Allura raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow.  “I never would’ve guessed,” she deadpanned, she and Shiro exchanged a look.  Her face softened after a moment, and she turned a smile onto Keith.  “It’s lovely to meet you, Keith.  Shiro has spoken very highly of you.”  She glanced at the Hello Kitty mug in Shiro’s hand.  “What an interesting choice of design.”

Keith shrugged.  “It reminds me of my cat.”

Shiro’s smiles were going to be the death of him, Keith decided an instant later.  “Red is pretty cute.”  Or the winks, because it was devastating, being on the receiving end of that, and just like the first time, Keith didn’t think Shiro meant his _cat_.

“So are you,” Keith blurted, and then immediately burrowed deeper into his scarf to hide his mortification.  And then straightened, thinking better of it, because it was _true._ Who the fuck builds a snowman and named it _Snowtron_?  Freakishly cute firemen who acted like earnest schoolboys, apparently.

Allura’s gaze darted between them.  “You know,” she said slowly, “I think I’m going back inside to warm up some.”  She rolled the large snowball over and stopped it next to Shiro’s smaller one.  “Why don’t you guys finish this up without me?”

Shiro waved absently to her retreating form.  He was still smiling at Keith, and Keith wondered what he’d ever done to earn such an adoring look from Shiro.  Maybe the hot chocolate helped, but Shiro had barely taken a sip of it.

“Come on, Keith,” he said at last.  “Why don’t you do the honors and make Snowtron’s head?”  He set the mug one a clear patch of sidewalk long enough assemble the two parts of the snowman already set out, and Keith admired his strength as he lifted up the middle section.  He figured, the sooner they finished Snowtron, the sooner he could have Shiro’s undivided attention, so he did so without complaint.

And, in truth, it was a little fun, a little silly, enough to have him laughing with Shiro.  Enough to make him forget about the cold making his fingers stiff and clumsy—and that made it all the better, a few minutes later, when Shiro shared the hot chocolate with him to warm up (despite Keith’s protests).

Shiro dragged him inside, saying, “Why don’t I give you a tour?  I’ll introduce you to everyone,” and Keith didn’t have any reason to protest.  Didn’t even want to, but Shiro still added, “It’ll give you a chance to warm up before you go back out.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”  It felt significant, somehow, too, and Keith couldn’t help the way his heart swelled in his chest, thumping wildly.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](Http://sylvermyth.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] cold snap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891527) by [sylvermyth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth)




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